


A Tempting Reversal

by DoctorTrekLock



Series: Resolution19 [49]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M, Post-Apocalypse, Temptation, the fern is a surprisingly major character imo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-16 00:27:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21498838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorTrekLock/pseuds/DoctorTrekLock
Summary: "You were trying totemptme, angel," Crowley said, delighted. "Me. TheSerpent. TheOriginal Tempter. You were trying to tempt me with the promise of a few hours sunlight on a London afternoon. The idea is so ludicrous in and of itself that it must be mocked to the fullest extent."
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Resolution19 [49]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1275806
Comments: 10
Kudos: 68





	A Tempting Reversal

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Crowley's not the only one who tempts  
> Source: [Spinner12](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinner12)
> 
> Originally posted November 19, 2019 on [Tumblr](https://doctortreklock.tumblr.com/post/189184680502/a-tempting-reversal-november-19-2019)

"It's a beautiful day outside, isn't it, my dear?" Aziraphale asked Crowley cheerily.

Crowley just hummed in response and leaned in closer to inspect the leaves of the little fern sitting on the desk. Ever since the Apocawhoops, small green plants had been mysteriously migrating over from Crowley's Mayfair flat to A. Z. Fell Books.* Now that they were out of his carefully controlled environment, Crowley took great pains to examine each subject every day for brown spots or drooping.**

This particular specimen had begun gaining a slight yellow tinge to the underside of his leaves. Crowley had been in the middle of attempting to determine if it was a trick of the light or a sign of the fern undermining his authority, when Aziraphale had interrupted him with a chipper comment on the weather.

Aziraphale didn't seemed phased by Crowley's lukewarm response. He just cleared his throat and repeated, "It's quite beautiful out. The sun is really very warm, I'm sure. Makes you almost want to bask," he tried when Crowley didn't react.

The last entreaty gave the game away, but Crowley kept his gaze fixed firmly on the fern, even as he could feel his lips turn up at his angel's behavior.

"I couldn't possibly go anywhere, angel," Crowley said, straightening up and giving Aziraphale his best wide-eyed, beseeching look. "I'm afraid this poor soul needs me," he said, picking up the small fern and clutching it to his chest.^*

"Oh," Aziraphale's face fell comically. "Are you sure?"

"Oh yes," Crowley said, nodding emphatically. "No matter how _tempting_ it may be outside."

Aziraphale scowled at him. "There's no need to mock me, my dear. I was simply enquiring--"

"You were trying to _tempt_ me, angel," Crowley said, delighted. " _Me_. The _Serpent_. The _Original Tempter_. You were trying to tempt me with the promise of a few hours sunlight on a London afternoon. The idea is so ludicrous in and of itself that it must be mocked to the fullest extent."

Aziraphale drew himself up primly. "I was only--"

"You needn't bother," Crowley continued over Aziraphale's protest. "It's not as if spending time with you is a hardship, fall sunlight or no."

Crowley could feel his face flush at his own words, but carried on. "Besides," he said, plopping the fern back down on the desk, "It's not as if any temptation is complete without an offer of tea at the Ritz." He wrapped his fingers around Aziraphale's wrist and pulled the angel's unresisting arm around and through his own. "So, shall we?" he asked, ignoring the flush he could still feel on his face.

Aziraphale's other hand came up and gently squeezed Crowley's arm affectionately. "Of course, my dear. I thought you'd never ask!" He was beaming.

And two man-shaped beings took themselves out into the afternoon sunshine, and for a spot of tea at the Ritz.^^

\--

* This, of course, had nothing to do with how Crowley had been spending more time than usual in the company of the angel who happened to own the bookstore. Of course not. It must have been some sort of dastardly, Hellish plot to unsettle him that had his beloved greenery hitching rides in the backseat of the Bentley. Crowley was willing to swear up and down that it had absolutely, positively nothing to do with the way the angel beamed at him when he saw Crowley's plants populating the bookshop.

** One could not overestimate the effect of angelic presence on the disruption of carefully ordered demonic systems.

^* Normally, Crowley would never dare to let his hair down - so to speak - so much around his plants. One never knew when they would take a mile when given the metaphorical inch. However, this particular fern had been keeping to standards - it turned out the lighting in the bookshop was much different than in Crowley's hyper-modern flat - and Crowley had been unable to find signs that the fern had let himself go, so he figured that, just this once, he could give the metaphorical inch.

^^ The fern was left behind to watch the bookshop, as early-twenty-first-century human society wasn't accustomed to two men taking their plant out for tea with them. It was also remarkably difficult to hold hands while holding a plant, and that may have posed some difficulties later on their excursion. Never fear, however, the fern well understood his place in the bookshop and in Crowley's carefully ordered hierarchy of greenery. Ferns are notoriously well-behaved plants, and while any other species may have taken Crowley's actions as a sign of weakness, this fern knew the rare gift that he had been given in being able to see Crowley this emotional. When the clematis started gossiping about Crowley and the angel, they didn't get it from the fern. It probably had something to do with how Crowley had kissed Aziraphale by the poetry books. They didn't hear it from the fern.


End file.
